


Love is a Verb

by hernameinthesky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 05:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4817531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hernameinthesky/pseuds/hernameinthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a long time it’s just the three of them, alone in the dark. They curl up together like actual wolves most nights, Cora pressed to his back and Erica’s fingers brushing against his waist from behind Cora. It keeps them warm, since the Alpha Pack doesn’t care much for their comfort and hasn’t given them bedding, and it’s comforting. He can’t see anything, can’t hear past the walls of the vault, so their heartbeats – Cora’s steady and loud, Erica’s faster, speeding and slowing easily, just as loud – become something of a lullaby to him. They talk as well, because what else do they have to do?</p><p>OR</p><p>A conversation Boyd, Cora, and Erica have while trapped in the vault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is a Verb

**Author's Note:**

> I was complaining about the lack of Boyd on tumblr, so I thought I should do something about it. I wrote this ages ago, but re-read it and decided it wasn’t bad. A little editing and here we are! Title is inspired by Andrea Gibson's poem "I Do".
> 
> I don’t really know what to warn for so if anyone thinks of anything they think I should please tell me.

For a long time it’s just the three of them, alone in the dark. They curl up together like actual wolves most nights, Cora pressed to his back and Erica’s fingers brushing against his waist from behind Cora. It keeps them warm, since the Alpha Pack doesn’t care much for their comfort and hasn’t given them bedding, and it’s comforting. He can’t see anything, can’t hear past the walls of the vault, so their heartbeats – Cora’s steady and loud, Erica’s faster, speeding and slowing easily, just as loud – become something of a lullaby to him. They talk as well, because what else do they have to do?

“Alicia and I were going to be dancers,” he says, voice hushed. He doesn’t talk about her, hasn’t in years. But he doesn’t want to die knowing nobody except their mom is going to remember her, and he thinks Cora and Erica both have a much better chance of surviving this than he does. He's never been a fighter, and that's never bothered him before. Doesn't really bother him now, except he worries that his mom will be alone.

“Dancers,” Erica says with a breathy laugh. “I can’t imagine you dancing.”

Cora snorts and snuggles closer, arm tight around his shoulders, guiding his head until it’s lying on her shoulder. “What kind?”

Boyd winces and prepares himself for the laughter. “Ballet.”

But they don’t laugh. Erica lies down so her head is in his lap and takes his hand, playing with his fingers. “That would have been cool,” she says. “I wanted to dance when I was a kid too. Tap though, because I liked the sound of the shoes. But I wasn’t allowed. I wasn’t allowed to do anything but _read_.” Her voice is bitter and sharp, and there’s a moment where he thinks they’re going to sink into silence. Then she sighs. “I’m going to start tap once I get out of here. I don’t care if I’m too old.”

“I’ll come with you,” Boyd says. “If you want.”

“Yeah.” He can hear the smile in her voice. “That’d be good. What about you, Cora? Will you come to tap with us?”

There’s a beat of silence, then Cora says roughly, “I don’t dance.”

“Why not?” Erica asks, something Boyd never would have dared to do.

“Laura danced,” Cora says. Her voice is bland, like she couldn’t care less, but Boyd can smell her grief, her exhaustion. It hangs heavy in the air around them, pressing, suffocating. Boyd runs a hand over her hair, and smiles when her body softens against him.

“What kind of dance did she do?” Erica says, quieter now, more sensitive.

Another pause. Cora’s next breath hitches, and comes out shuddering.

“Not really any kind. She didn’t go to lessons or anything, but she was always dancing, even when there was no music. She made Derek sing for her sometimes.”

“ _Derek?”_

Erica doesn’t quite keep the disbelief out of her tone and Cora stiffens again.

“Yes. He was happy to, most of the time. They were best friends.”

It’s strange to think of Derek like that. Young as them and best friends with his older sister. Singing for her so she could dance to music. It makes Boyd sad for the man he’s become. Sad. Not angry, not really, not anymore.


End file.
